


The Restaurant at the End of the Series

by LizzyLovegood



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack, Fast Food, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 10:37:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3116990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizzyLovegood/pseuds/LizzyLovegood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Second War, Sirius and Bellatrix discuss some unresolved issues in a Burger King.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Restaurant at the End of the Series

**Author's Note:**

> Many moons ago, I worked at a Burger King and during one shift two people who looked eerily like Sirius Black and Bellatrix Lestrange came in and ordered food. Thus, this story was born. 
> 
> Also, I'd like to give credit to The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy for the title idea.
> 
> This was originally posted on FF on 5/4/09 under Lizzy Lovegood.

“Mushroom XT and a Tendergrill?” The blue-haired Burger King employee apathetically scanned the crowded restaurant. “Anyone, anyone at all?” she called again, voice positively dripping in sarcasm.

The girl’s gaze fell on a man with a bullet wound through his chest.

“Sir? Sir yes, you, is this your order?” Seeing her manager watching her, the girl addressed the blood-stained man with as much civility as she could muster.

Nevertheless, there was no reaction. The man just stared back blankly before letting out a low, zombie-like growl. “ _Big Ma-aac._ ”

“There’s a McDonald’s right down the street,” the girl explained, fighting not to cringe. Honestly, some of the people in the afterlife were just horrific! She'd had enough of crappy, dead-end jobs in the real world. She didn’t even have her parents to help pay her rent. Why, she should have had wings and a halo by now . . . _and_ have met a really cute, sweet, all-around great guy to make up for that good-for-nothing, cheating, scummy. . . .

_Ooh, like that guy._

The man approaching her, she decided, definitely fit her criterion for the perfect man. He had _definitely_ gotten on God’s better side with long, black hair and the most shocking blue eyes she had ever seen. Loping assuredly over to the counter the God-like man glanced down at the tray she was holding.

“An XT and a Tendergrill, right? That’s mine. Sorry about the hold-up. I had a bit of a problem with my. . . .”

The girl abruptly cut him off. “Oh, no, that’s fine!” she squeaked, pushing the plastic tray towards him. “Would you like any salt, pepper, ketchup?” she asked as she littered the tray with various condiments.

“No thanks, I’m fine,” Mr. God-man said, handing a few Cini-Mini icings back to her with a dazzling smile. “Thanks . . . Mandy.”

Mandy felt weak at the knees, she could have just fainted with pleasure. He knew her _name_! Granted, she was wearing a name tag, but still . . . he knew her name!

Taking the tray from her slack grip, the God-man walked off to join his companion – probably his girlfriend, Mandy thought wistfully – a bitch if Mandy had ever seen one. . . .

. . .

“Remind me why I paid for this?” Sirius remarked dryly, unwrapping his greasy burger.

“Because it’s good,” the woman sitting opposite him said. “It’s about the only thing Muggles can get right. Plus, I’m your favorite cousin.”

Sirius snorted. “Don’t flatter yourself, Bella. You killed me, remember?”

“I didn’t _mean_ to. . . .”

“Didn’t mean to? Bella, how can you possibly ‘not mean’ to kill someone?”

Bellatrix Lestrange made a noncommittal noise in the back of her throat as she took a large bite of her sandwich. “Mmm,” she sighed blissfully. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had one of these? Before Azkaban, at least! Tommy doesn’t like it, you see.”

Sirius, who had just taken a cautious bite of his own burger, snorted with laughter. Hacking and coughing, he sprayed regurgitated meat all over the tray. Bellatrix protectively put her hands over her own sandwich.

“Dear Merlin, what is that?” he wheezed, studying the mass of . . . _stuff_ on his plate.

Bellatrix peered curiously at the burger chunks. “Well, beef obviously and some sort of cheese and . . . mushrooms.”

“Mushrooms? Where?”

“Right there.” Bellatrix pointed. “See the little gray things?”

“What, those are. . . . You’re kidding me!”

“Sirius, they’re mushrooms. . . .”

“They are not. They look like . . . like dog turds. _Diseased_ dog turds.” He picked a brown speck from one of the alleged ‘mushrooms.’ “And I would know. I remember once I got this tapeworm and whenever I crapped, I had to pick out these little white. . . .”

“Sirius, can we please change the subject?”

“Not until I have my say.”

“Does your ‘say’ involve more talk of diseased turds?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact. But I mean, come on, Bella . . . it really _does_ look like that!” Without warning, Sirius thrust the burger into his least-favorite cousin’s face.

“Sirius!”

“I guess I can understand where old Voldy’s coming from on this,” Sirius mused as he studied the dripping piece of meat, barely listening to the witch. “How’s he doing by the way? Last I heard, Harry was walking to his doom.”

“I’ll tell you Sirius,” Bellatrix negotiated, “if you get your burger away from my face.”

“Oh.” Abruptly, Sirius placed the meat back on the tray and, in another movement, had thrown it into the trash bin. “So. . . .”

“So . . . where were we?”

“Harry was walking to his doom against old Voldy.”

“Ah, yes . . . good times, good times. Wait a moment, how’d you know about that?”

“Huh?” asked Sirius blankly.

“You’re dead, remember?”

“Oh, yeah . . . it was this really freaky thing with a Snitch that Dumbledore left him.”

“A Snitch?”

“Yeah. There was a rock inside it or something. And next thing you know – _poof_ – I’m back with James and Lily and Remus. Well, in ghost form, that is.”

“What did you do?”

“Oh, you know, play wizard chess, eat Chocolate Frogs, the whole bit. We even thought about playing a game of Quidditch but we didn’t have time.”

“Sirius. . . .”

Sirius laughed. “Just said some inspirational things to Harry, make him more calm about facing death, you know?”

“That’s sweet,” Bellatrix said in spite of herself.

“Yeah. Remus gave me a line to use - how death was easier and quicker than going to sleep or something like that. He was always the more poetic one. Oh, yeah . . . and then we told Harry we’d just disappear or something but we’d still be there.” Sirius chuckled.

“What are you laughing at?” The witch’s dark eyes narrowed at the Black man.

“We went back and played Quidditch. And he thought we were _there_! Ha!”

“Sirius!”

“What? You don’t even like the kid!”

“So? You’re his godfather, you’re _supposed_ to like him.”

“That wasn’t in the job description.”

Bellatrix merely glared.

“Lily stayed . . . and she had a mighty fit when she got back, I can tell you. Does that make you happy?”

“A bit. At least _someone_ has some loyalty to Harry.”

“Oh, come on, lighten up!” Sirius pelted some ‘mushrooms’ at his cousin. “He didn’t die, did he?”

“No,” Bellatrix said, disentangling meat from her long, black hair. “He came back. Hagrid carried him back up to the school and the Dark Lord made this big speech.” Bellatrix giggled. “He used a megaphone.”

“A _megaphone_?”

“Yeah. Oh, it was priceless, you just had to be there! There he is, shouting through this megaphone and no one’s really listening and he’s getting really desperate. Then this kid stands up to him.”

“Which kid? Harry?”

“Oh, no. Harry’s just lying there pretending to be dead. It was quite funny actually. He was trying not to breathe too hard but it was just so obvious. And then there’s the big half-breed oaf crying all over his body.” Abruptly, the deceased Death Eater returned to her old self as she laughed maliciously at the memory.

“It was Neville Longbottom,” she said, eyebrows furrowed in thought. “Yes, he was leading that little band . . . Dumbledore’s Army, I think it was called.”

“That’s right.”

“Yes, them and the rest of your little ‘Order.’ Then . . . he lit the Sorting Hat on fire.”

“Old Moldy Voldy, you mean.”

“Yes.” Bellatrix’s expression couldn’t help but become slightly feral as Sirius mocked her old master.

“What good would that do?”

“To tell you the truth,” said Bella, “I really don’t know. I think it was so everyone would be Sorted into Slytherin instead of the other Houses.”

“So, rather than just announcing it with his super-duper megaphone, old Voldy decides to destroy one of the wizarding world’s most famous artifacts.”

“You mean he _tried_ to destroy it.”

“What do you mean ‘tried’? What happened then?”

“Well, he placed it on the Neville boy’s head and next thing you know this giant sword just pops out of it and . . . and. . . .” Bellatrix’s lip trembled dangerously. “Poor little Nagini,” she murmured. Silently, a tear slid down her cheek.

“Erm . . . Nagini?”

“The Dark Lord’s snake,” Bellatrix continued shakily. “When Neville got the sword, he . . . the very first thing he did was ch-chop off Nagini’s little head.” She looked sadly down at her sandwich.

“I remember when she was just a little baby and I used to feed her rats and voles and . . . and tell her she was going to grow up and be the most amazing beautiful snakey in all the world . . . and now she’s _dead_!” The witch’s voice rose to an ear-shattering scream at this last word.

Sirius resisted the urge to add that they were dead, too. Gingerly, he patted the Black woman’s shoulder. “It’s alright, I’m sure Nagini is, er . . . in snakey heaven by now.”

Bellatrix didn’t seem to hear him, she was instead tearing chunks of chicken viciously off of the sandwich as if it had committed some unspeakable wrong. “I hope that when that Neville’s o-owl dies that it k-keeps coming b-back so Nagini c-can eat it again and again and. . . .” She gave a watery gulp “. . . and _again_!”

“It’s OK, it’s OK. . . .”

“Why did she have to die, Sirius, why?!”

“Erm . . . snakey heaven?”

“ _Why?!_ ” Bellatrix’s sobs became still louder. “ _Why_ , Sirius? Tell me why!” People in the restaurant had turned in their seats to stare.

“Why did I have to die, Sirius?” Bellatrix demanded, really getting on a roll now. “It’s not fair, it’s not fair! Why couldn’t I stay with the Dark Lord! The Dark Lord and I were meant to be, Sirius! I know we were, I love him! I _love_ him! Sirius, whhhy?!”

“I don’t know, Bella,” Sirius said as patiently as he could. He did, after all, remember how much James and Lily had had to subdue him after his own unfortunate death, especially seeing as he had wanted to sue the Department of Mysteries for leading him to this unfortunate death. Couldn’t they have at least put a sign up saying ‘Beware: This Is Not Just A Pretty Curtain. If You Go Through You Will Die’? Was that _really_ too much to ask?

In the end, he believed they had had to put an extremely strong Sleeping Draught in a bottle of Firewhiskey. Hmm, that did have its’ merits. . . .

“Please calm down, Bella,” he continued. “Please, people . . . people are staring.”

Bellatrix continued to howl. Even the employees were staring now. A few looked scared, some looked sympathetic, the blue-haired girl, Mandy, was the only one who looked absolutely ecstatic.

“Bad break-up,” murmured an old lady wisely. Sirius felt his face flush.

“Why, Sirius?!” She reached up and shook him by the collar of his robes.

“I DON’T KNOW!” Sirius shouted, his last reserves of patience long gone. “Because that’s what life is! Hell, that’s what _war_ is, Bella, particularly if you’re the _bad guy_ in that war! You’re the one who killed _me_ , remember? Now, does that satisfy you? Will you shut up now?”

“Yes, but. . . .” Bellatrix’s sobs had quieted by now and her voice was a mere whisper

But Sirius’s patience had been tested to the limit. If this woman wanted understanding, she should have gone to Remus. Or better yet, Dumbledore! He would listen and then offer her a bloody lemon drop for her troubles! But it had just _had_  to be him - the first familiar face she had run into since joining the afterlife - that had to listen to her woes and troubles. . . .

“But what, Bella? What, you’re going to say you’re different, because you’re Voldemort’s most loyal follower, because you’re his ‘favorite’?” Sirius spat this last word viciously as Bellatrix flinched, but he paid no attention. “Ha! You speak as if you didn’t _deserve_ to be killed! As if you didn’t tear apart countless families to get where you are today! Well, I’ll tell you something, Bella. You’re no different from any of the rest of us - in fact, if anything, you’re worse!”

The evil witch’s face flushed as she mumbled something incoherent.

“What?”

“Molly Weasley.”

“Molly Weasley, what do you mean, Molly. . . .” Sirius trailed off and a delighted expression lit his face. “Bella,” he said slowly, “are you telling me, are you really telling me, that you were killed by Molly Weasley?”

If it were possible, Bellatrix’s face flushed still deeper. Ever so slowly, she nodded.

“You were killed . . . by Molly Weasley,” Sirius repeated, as if to make sure he had gotten it right. Nevertheless, the man sounded as if he were forcibly restraining laughter.

“It wasn’t like you think,” Bellatrix said quickly, her face now as red as the Weasley mother’s hair. “She was . . . fierce. I’ve never seen anything like it,” she said, awestruck

“What did you do?” Sirius asked, chuckling. “Insult her cooking? Or, oh . . .” He doubled over with laughter. “Did she stab you with one of her knitting needles, Bella, was _that_ it? Hahaha!”

“No . . . Sirius, no. It wasn’t anything like that. I was dueling her daughter and the Mudblood and . . . some other blond-haired girl. A Lovegood, I think. . . .”

“You were dueling a _Lovegood_? And you were killed?” Sirius snorted.

“I was dueling her and two other skilled witches as you very well know! Anyway, I was dueling them and then . . . then she just stepped in and . . . and she called me a - a bitch and . . . she killed me.” Bellatrix whispered the last few words, as if unwilling to believe they could be true.

“Oh, Merlin,” Sirius gasped, clutching a stitch in his side. “Oh, Merlin. I thought I was pathetic, falling through a bloody curtain . . . but _you_. . . .”

“Sirius, please. . . .” However, the witch’s voice was near-powerless in the face of Sirius’s growing hysterics.

“You,” Sirius continued relentlessly. “You, Bella, murdered by Molly - bloody - Weasley! Hahaha!” Sirius dissolved into indecipherable laughter, now and them mumbling words like ‘Molly’ or ‘bitch’ amidst his hilarity.

“Sirius she was _fierce_. Fierce, Sirius, I swear to you!”

“Molly Weasley - fierce. Oh Merlin, I have to remember to tell that to James and Freddy. Did you hear Fred’s here too, Bella?”

“Fred?”

“Fred Weasley, you know, Molly’s son?”

“Oh . . . well. . . .”

“Well, at least she got her vengeance, didn’t she? The insane Bellatrix Lestrange, Voldy’s right-hand woman, killed by Molly Weasley! Oh, Freddy’s gonna love that, I can tell you!”

“Sirius . . . Sirius, please just _listen_.”

The same people that had been staring earlier were now looking at the couple as if worried for their sanity. A few were nervously pulling out their cells while employees had inched closer under the pretense of cleaning. Several were sweeping the same area at once, eyes darting towards them in an effort to be inconspicuous.

“Oh Merlin, this is the most fun I’ve had in years! I am going to have a good eternity gloating about _this_ , Bella! Hahaha!” The man was, by now, banging the table, not even attempting to hold his hysterics in check.

“Sirius. . . .” Bellatrix was nearly crying with frustration.

“Hahaha . . . oh heeheeheehahaha!”

This would most likely have gone on for who knows how long - maybe even eternity - when, quite abruptly, everyone and everything fell utterly silent. The few people that were still talking amongst themselves stopped; even the incessant whirring and beeping coming from the restaurant’s kitchen had ceased. Bellatrix watched the manager hurry back, frantically pressing buttons and switches.

“Merlin’s pants,” Bellatrix breathed.

“What? What is it?” Mimicking the witch - and the rest of the shell-shocked customers - Sirius turned to face the front counter of the restaurant. “Dear Merlin,” he said, blinking in bewilderment. “I never thought I’d see the day. . . .”

Thin arms and legs flailing, a small and very ugly-looking baby cried out as it - no, _he_ \- struggled in the arms of an older man that many could have mistaken for his great-great-grandfather.“No! _No!_  Put me down right down, Dumbledore! _Dumbledore!_  I refuse! I would rather . . . why, I would rather _die_ than eat this putrid food!”

“Now, Tom, you already _are_ dead,” Dumbledore said, patting the fetus’s head patiently. “Things can’t really get any worse, now can they?”

“Oh, they certainly can, you foolish old man!” the baby cried. “If you make me eat this stinking Muggle-made food, they certainly can. Look at them,” he growled, glaring around at employees and customers alike. “Stupid little Muggles, totally unafraid of the wrath of _Lord Voldemort_!”

“Tommy,” said Dumbledore reprovingly. “We’ve talked about this. You are no longer ‘Lord Voldemort.’ That is the name of the past, you are Tom Riddle now. Thomas Marvolo Riddle.”

The thing made a face – most likely at the horrendous name 'Marvolo' – as Mandy approached the old man and his small charge. “Hi, welcome to Burger King,” she said, looking them over with interest. “Would you like to try a Value Meal?”

“Yes, please,” said Dumbledore. “I’ll have a . . . Number Twelve and Tommy here will have a cheeseburger and a fry.”

“Kid’s Meal?”

“If you would be so kind.” The old wizard's eyes twinkled.

“I will not!” Tom shouted, incensed. “Now, listen here you dirty-blooded scum,” he said, pointing to Mandy. “I will not have this _cheeseburger_ or _fry_. I will not eat any of your filthy food! Do you hear me? _None!_ ”

“Tom!” Dumbledore gave the thing a stern look. “I’m very sorry about that, miss. Would you, by any chance, like a lemon drop?”

“Erm . . . sure.”

The baby could only flail as Dumbledore unstuck the yellow candy from its’ fellows to hand to the young employee.

“Treating Muggles as if they are our equals! You are insane, Dumbledore, I’ve always said it! Absolutely _insane_!”

All the customers could do was stare - even the old woman who had murmured sympathetically about a "bad break-up" was struck dumb - all except the two in the corner booth. Sirius, who had long ago given up subtlety, was giggling for all he was worth while a gigantic smile was spread across Bellatrix’s face.

“Diseased . . . dog turds,” Bellatrix whispered just before both of them dissolved into irreconcilable laughter. They neither heard Dumbledore’s words of greeting as he recognized the two deceased wizards or Tom Riddle’s screams of fury as the old wizard fed a fry into his protesting mouth. For once nothing mattered at all - nothing, that is, except the fact that it was over.

Lord Voldemort was defeated to be replaced by this little, pathetic fetus.

The demarcations of bad guy and good guy had disappeared.

The war was over.

And most importantly - no matter their differences - they were cousins.

Oh, and one more thing, Sirius Black would never eat Burger King again.


End file.
